Bibliography

Finished in 1726, the Spanish Dominican Choral Book boasts a size of 18 inches tall, 12 inches wide, 2 inches in height. The book is protected by a cover made of wooden boards bound in leather that appears a bit weathered and frayed on the bottom of the spine and inner corners, but is otherwise intact. Both the front cover and back cover feature metal inlays with barnacle or flower motifs, rounded studs lining the edge, decorative metal corners, and two rectangular metal clasps. The spine features four raised bands, indicating the book was sewn together. Filling the space between the book’s spine and book block are plain endbands, which aid in the preservation of this choral book. 

The untitled antiphonary contains hymns and chants written in both Latin and Spanish in red and black lettering. Pages are numbered incorrectly, with leaf 29 numbered as 28; leaf [31] unnumbered; leaf 30 numbered as 29; leaves 32-34 numbered as 30-32. The majority of pages within the book are made of parchment and inscribed by hand using ink. The pages’ edges are painted red, which has bled onto the borders of the pages inside. The book’s hymns include illuminated lettering, often in red, preceding the verses and accompanying five line-staves written with red ink. The musical notation, written in black, uses neumes to denote the pitch at which the syllables are sung, but not the rhythm. After page 99,  a table of contents names the hymns’ titles. After the table of contents are additional hymns with unnumbered pages, written in a different and more elaborate font.

The Spanish Dominican Choral Book also has a colophon that, when translated from Spanish to English, reads “This book was sent to me to be made for Doña Ifabel and Sor Juan who were singers at the Dominican Religious Consolation Convent of La Rambla in 1726. Written by Fr. Ludovicus Ayllon of the same order,” revealing that the book was made in Spain, though most of the text is in Latin. In a page before the previously mentioned colophon, another one written in red ink and inside an inverted triangle reads, “The tone written for our father serves any purpose in the order. The tone of Saint Austin’s Lucius serves any purpose. The tone of all this is given to the feast of all the fields of the order,” which describes how the hymns in the Choral Book would’ve been meant for various occasions. 

Analysis

When imagining a book from the eighteenth century, one might picture a decrepit artifact showing its centuries of age in yellowed, decaying pages, elaborate, illegible text, and archaic language. Yet, that is not exactly the case for the 1726 Spanish Dominican Choral Book. Instead of a dying book, the Choral Book remains in relatively good shape with legible words. Though there is some damage to the inner corners of the book, warped pages, and some separation between book blocks and the spine, the Spanish Dominican Choral Book has withstood the test of time and lives in Special Collections to tell its tale. This leads to questions of how a book of such age can be preserved so well, with answers lying in its construction. The Spanish Dominican Choral Book, with its cover of ornate metal inlays, clasps, and use of neumes, not only flaunts the Catholic Church’s wealth but also how books served as an exercise in restricting knowledge and as a testament to the Church’s withholding of  knowlede by enforcing oral tradition.

The Spanish Dominican Choral Book is bound in wooden boards, wrapped in brown leather, and embellished with charming metal inlays, all of which aid in the preservation of this sacred text, while also displaying the immense wealth of the Church. When crafting a book, everything is intentional and costs money: from the material of the cover and pages to the font chosen. Being a sacred text meant that the Choral Book had to be made of top-quality material, aesthetically pleasing, and constructed to last a long stretch of time, which it has accomplished thanks to these elements being funded and put into practice. The wooden boards of the Choral Book are still intact,  providing a sturdy structure, while the leather casing protects the wood boards and book blocks from daily wear and tear. The metal inlays of the book are not only beautiful in their possibly oceanic or floral motifs, but also serve to protect the book. These metal inlays raise the book about an inch off any flat surface when lying down and keep the book the same length away from other books when filed onto a shelf. Having this raised surface can help in preserving the book, as it prevents the immediate surface of the book from interacting with grime or a wet surface and doesn’t allow friction between the leather cover of the book and any surface to occur. The corners of the book are also embellished with metal, which secures the leather on the wood boards and prevents the corners from getting severely damaged and fraying. Though these metal inlays were both beautiful and practical, they were also presumably expensive since metal was a more scarce resource that required lots of fuel to manipulate it. Though the Church could’ve made the book without these embellishments or high-quality materials, they didn’t and spared little cost. Lastly, on the outside of the book are rectangular metal clasps that secure the book shut. This prevents the pages of the book from being exposed, which consequently aids in the preservation of the book and its text. Though one might pick up the Choral Book just to awe at the Latin hymns that were handwritten, despite Gutenberg’s press being a popular mode of book creation as early as the 15th century, that wasn’t the only thing created by hand. Everything was crafted by hand, which meant everything had to be purchased, then given to craftsmen to transform and apply to the book, an expensive and laborious endeavor. Some monks would sit for many hours to painstakingly write out the hymn’s lyrics and notation, while others would proofread and correct mistakes, some were tasked with illuminating the script, and others had the job of putting the book physically together and binding it, all of which cost a hefty amount in supplies and providing for the monks. Being able to fund such an endeavor required plenty of money and the luxury of time, which the Church was able to provide in order to advance its mission of spreading Catholicism.  

Though some of the aforementioned physical aspects of the book may seem arbitrary, the inclusion of the metal clasps and use of neumes for musical notation symbolize the restriction of knowledge through the use of oral tradition. In Spain, “until 1782, the inquisitorial prohibitions of 1551 and 1559 against the printing, selling, or possession of a vernacular version, either complete or partial, of Holy Scripture remained in effect” (Frago, 581). This meant that common people of Spain, who could’ve had the ability to read in their vernacular, couldn’t access one of the most printed books, the Bible, in their tongue. Instead, primarily religious authorities were the ones with access to the most books and were able to read these books, unlike the common person. So, the common person would get these religious texts read at them during service because they couldn’t buy or improve their reading skills with a common text in their language, and certainly didn’t have lots of spare time to learn another language. In “The History of Literacy in Spain: Evolution, Traits, and Questions” Antonio Viñao Frago writes that “much illiteracy was due to a lack of practice as a consequence of a combination of deficient schooling, of a strictly academic focus to instruction, and of the absence of general social uses for reading and writing skills,” supporting the idea that the the everyday person didn’t have the time nor resources to read. This restriction of religious knowledge and literacy is symbolized by the metal clasps on the Choral Book, as it keeps the book perpetually shut. The book is not something that can be easily opened and simply riffled through. It includes the task of unlocking the book before accessing its contents, making a show out of opening something presumably important. The restriction of knowledge is reflected in the low literacy rates of Spain, as “approximately 70 percent of the population ages ten and over” are not able to read according to Frago. Though this data was recorded from a 1860 census, rather than one from an earlier time, because “it was not until the census of 1860 that information on literacy appeared for the first time” (Tapia et al, 574), it shows how low the literacy rate of Spain was as time went on.

 This subtle signal of restricting knowledge by use of oral tradition is furthered when examining the musical notation. The neumes in the Choral Book are stemless, square-like notes which are typically used in Gregorian chants. These notes do not indicate rhythm nor an exact pitch, but a relative pitch. Though written in books, neumes are not for learning a new piece; they are instead a mnemonic device to help recall or memorize chants, similar to cheironomic hand gestures. This meant that the religious members interacting with the Choral Book would’ve already known the hymns in the book and had the book to aid in their chants. Further to the point, in “The Growth of Literacy in Western Europe from 1500 to 1800,” Dr. Robert A. Huston notes that when it came to reading, “Spain and Italy emphasized memorization over reading,” which legitimizes the Choral Book’s position as not a tool for gaining knowledge but for reinforcing knowledge for the people who were already in the know. 

The Spanish Dominican Choral Book is more than just an artifact to gawk at; it is the embodiment of the Church’s wealth, power, and control of knowledge during the 18th century in Spain. Its lasting construction, including expensive materials of wood, leather, and metal, is a testament to the wealth of the Church and its dedication to preserving sacred texts. The metal clasps and neumes serve as symbols of the Church’s deliberate restriction of knowledge and authority, which they reinforced through oral tradition and by dictating what was to be read, heard, and known. During a time when literacy was at a significant low and religious texts, which would’ve helped literacy rates, were restricted, the Choral Book played a role in upholding the Church’s rule and enforcing traditional values, instead of being a tool for gaining knowledge. Though today we might glance over a book in a store and briefly admire its cover, the construction of the book is significant and acts as a reflection of the times we live in.

Works Cited:

Frago, Antonio Viñao. “The History of Literacy in Spain: Evolution, Traits, and Questions.” History of Education Quarterly, vol. 30, no. 4, 1990, pp. 573–99. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/368947. Accessed 26 Oct. 2025. 

Houston, Robert A. “The Growth of Literacy in Western Europe from 1500 to 1800.” Brewminate, February 18, 2018. https://brewminate.com/the-growth-of-literacy-in-western-europe-from-1500-to-1800/. 

Selwood, Dominic. “The British and Reading: A Short History.” Bookbrunch, November 24, 2021. https://www.bookbrunch.co.uk/page/free-article/the-british-and-reading-a-short-history/. 

Tapia, Francisco J. Beltrán; Díez-Minguela, Alfonso; Martínez-Galarraga, Julio; Tirado, Daniel A. (2019) : The uneven transition towards universal literacy in Spain, 1860-1930, EHES Working Paper, No. 173, European Historical Economics Society (EHES), s.l.